


The First Sevensmass

by Draqonelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Dothraki, Faith of the Seven, Fix-It, Game of Thrones Fix-It, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draqonelle/pseuds/Draqonelle
Summary: Daenerys has never spent a holiday in Westeros.  And the Starks are flooded with memories of when Lady Catelyn first brought the celebrations to the North.  But this is a far colder and complicated world then Lady Catelyn dreamed.  In the coldness can anything be worth celebrating. Sansa and Daenerys's simmering antagonism might be brought to head for the most absurd argument over sugar.





	The First Sevensmass

**Author's Note:**

> Game of Thrones Fix-it!

First Sevensmass

Daenerys

It had begun in bed. Jon startled. As if something had happened, as their scant hours together in his chambers halted to a close.

“You realize this is the second day of Sevenstide…” Jon Snow said.  For he had determined the date. Looking at the calendar. “Sevenstide is come again.” The King in the North said, and the words for a second did not register any meaning in Daenerys’s mind. Jon was failing to Rub sleep out of his face.  
  
Daenerys looked over at him. “Oh” Trying to hide the fact she could not have a reaction. She didn’t know what he was talking about  
  
He looked at her “Danny. I think you would forget the day of the week if it could not benefit you.” Jon laughed. He could keep his nose to the ground. “Sevensmass shall be upon us soon.”

Then it occurred to her “Oh Sevenstide… Sevensmass.  I was…” She felt a fool now “The Holiday. Its so cold I forgot.”  
  
“Just because there is snow on the ground does not mean it is not Sevenstide.  Many a year the Gods day comes with snow and ice.” He said

“Well it does not…  It is just not what I imagined this day to be.  In my mind.”  She said “It is supposed to be the best day of the year. Not…”  
  
“We won’t be eating pickled swan and dragon livers cake.”  Jon said. “But special pains can be taken.”  
  
“But aren’t you Northern. The Old way-”

Jon shrugged “I care not personally, but there will be feasting among your men. We cannot let grim times constrain our spirit of community.” He said “If we do not hold feast the celebrations could get out of hand.  Many moons have passed since we have had common cause to celebrate.”

“It is well, your grace. I thank you.” Daenerys did not know what to say. “Of course there will be a feast.”

Then Jon as if unbothered went back to sleep as mysteriously as he had awoken

“It is imperative we know the day of the week.  With all the bother in the Wolfswood…”

Jon had fallen asleep already. Daenerys wondered if the King in the North needed a long sensible hibernation.  That sharing a bed was cutting into his natural sleep.  So she decided to slip through his chambers window into her room. Not many knew that there was only a bit of ledge between her and him.  Winterfell was easy to climb, with its knobs and old craggly stones.  And had an uneven rustic charm.  It must have been such a place to grow up.  She pulled herself in the open window. And sat catching her breath.  The hearthfire had gone out and it was still 50 inside of the walls.”

“My Queen.” Lady Sansa appeared at her chamber door “Are you within?”

“I am dressing my lady Sansa.” She tried to stall her.  “A nonce. My fire has gone out.” She said “You must pity me for growing in the Freecities.” She said.  For she had seen Jon find the temperature warm enough to walk around naturally without a shirt.

“Braavos is South of Winterfell.”  Sansa said.

 

Lady Sansa entered her suite. “It is chill in here.  I think your window might be loose”  
  
“My Queen. It would honor me, if I might help you prepare a feast for your men.”  
  
“Very well.”

“If you would your majesty.  I have something to show you in the solar.”

Sansa took Daenerys down to the solar.  Where the family conducted their leisure time. Daenerys and the Starks had spent many warm nights looking down upon the great hall cuddling and reading by the hearth and enjoying quiet peaceful evenings with the wind battering the walls like a slavers whip, cracked and swirling in the air.  The center of the castle was Warmer then you would expect. And so immediately made memories of the past few weeks filter into her mind.  She smiled.  It was a warm and safe place.  She had taken to sit on a hide chair in the corner by the fire.  With a thick red cushion stuffed with feathers.  The feeling of that chair behind her.  The spatter of sparks and cinders gave her a peaceful feeling.  He said no one liked to sit in that chair.  For it had arms.  Northern Superstition said only a King might sit in a chair with arms.  Though such foolishness was ignored South of the neck.   
The hearth was empty and it was not to sit during day light hours in the winter.  So Sansa lead Daenerys to the trestle table and the large cupboard with a simple wooden pattern on the door.

In the cupboard there seemed to be a secret compartment, as Sansa fiddled with the piece of furniture.  Sansa took the key from her belt and opened a wooden box. She pulled out a stoneware box.  
“What do you have it there…  diamonds, gold.” For these were hidden where the servants and children would not bother them. Even in a place like Winterfell there were little intrigues.  
  
“Those were in Mother’s chamber.  These belong to the family.” Sansa opened the doors to the box “They are my mother’s spices.”  She opened the compartments. “She wore the key around her waist.  They thought it was brass jewelry, to disguise it.  So it passed to me.” She said “You might have them to make a feast for all your men.” Sansa said “We only bring them out for feasts.  Mother told me their hiding place, when I was a little girl.  I was afraid Lady Walda found them.  But I should have known _she’d_ never find them.” She smiled for a second. Then got a guilty look “Not that I wish ill upon the girl.  But I did not like her using my mother’s things and to know all of Winterfell’s secrets.  She was just a foolish girl, and I think would have wasted them.” She said.  
  
“You have more charity to your enemies then I would.” Daenerys said.

Sansa took out a box of dusty herbs. Covered in grime and disuse..  Some ten years old. They had even stopped stinking.

“I have my own herbs my lady Sansa.  It is well.”

It was a paltry display to Daenerys.  Palaces had closets full of spice and sugar. Daenerys looked Flakes of a cinnamon stick, ground mace, garlic mixed in with the peppercorns “This one is expired.  This one smells like onion.” She should have sneezed at a knob of nutmeg.  She threw it aside “It has lost its strength. It’s naught but wood now”  
  
Sansa looked down guilty “I have not looked over it in some time since the war began. Perhaps they are too old."

Daenerys looked at a brown cake of turbinado. About the size of a baby’s fist.

“It is sugar my lady.  Real sugar.” She said “Not just Maple. From the East.” Sansa tried to encourage her “Yes.  You might have enough for ONE Big Feast. Though I doubt… for all of winter.” Sansa looked as a cat who drops a dead mouse for her master “I know we say the North is brutal. But Such Luxuries are uncommon in the north, I wanted to-”  
  
“Its very nice sugar.” The Queen tried to correct herself and hide her indifference… perhaps even distaste “I could not eat this. Sugar is a vice.”  She rolled her eyes at Sansa. “You don’t know how it is made…  you know slave labour.”

“Father bought it from sailors in White Harbor. Not slaves, My father wouldn’t-”

“No no.” Daenerys scoffed “All sugar is Grown in the filth and contagion of the Basilisk Isles.  They kill a dozen men every day as we might kill chickens.  They beat and harangue the slaves and no man lives more then two years.”  Daenerys would know being worldly of the plights of slave. “Then it is sold for a fortune. To these unscrupulous men to live in palaces even finer then Winterfell for their evil. It is abominable.”

Sansa looked at her angrily, “I had no idea, Your Grace. My father would not have bought it if he knew.” She said “He hated slavery.  He was a good man. You can’t think-”

“No doubt, no doubt” Daenerys was a little disgusted.  She would not speak of Old Lord Stark a man she could not know.  And whose children loved him.  “I was not saying that Lord Stark was to blame. He was ignorant of such things. But I am not ignorant. I still I will not eat it.  And I will not have it at my table.” Daenerys tossed it back. When Sansa placed it like a duckling in its nest.  How many pieces of gold was that?  How many people had died to bring sugar to the table of a Northern Rebel?  It was a heady thought.

Sansa pulled back the whole box.  With a strangely petulant look.  “My father wasn’t some stupid boor.  And.” Her blue eyes burned “Forgive me wasting your time.” Sansa said “I will lock this back up and you won’t have to bother yourself again.”

“Well.  I can make my own feast, Lady Sansa.  I was well supplied by the Martells and the Pentoshi. I don’t need your spices.” She said “You might save them for your people or throw them away.  Some have gone off.”

Sansa had gone from a prideful woman into the look of a beaten dog, especially about the sugar.  
  
“Many young ladies are unaware of the vile crimes that go unremarked. And I only learned from tales of sailors.” She said. “It is important you learn of the evils of this world, no matter how black.”  
  
Sansa ground her jaw and gave her a look of ice fury “I do not have to learn anything.  For I’m sure her grace will tell me everything I need to know about everything. I probably don’t have the capability to learn for myself.”

Daenerys was unsure she did not hear annoyance in her voice.  Daenerys looked carefully, but by then Sansa’s civil mask had returned.  And she bowed “I would leave you to your business.”

“It is well.  I can make arrangements for a feast. You need not trouble yourself, Lady Sansa. Or spend Winterfell’s supplies.”

“You can.  I will be at your service if you need me.”  Sansa’s voice cooled to the softest pitch, and Daenerys was never more certain that Sansa did _NOT_ mean what she said.  And she would rather die than help Daenerys prepare her feast.

****  
Daenerys could not begin to know what Sansa was about. Daenerys would expect the two of them to fight, if Sansa did not like her.  But Sansa never spoke against her.  Daenerys had men threaten to rape her, Lords threaten to defect.  Sansa’s courtesy however was a puzzle.  
Sansa could be a quiet, mournful child and did not show her emotions.  And next to Daenerys she sometimes thought her a child.  For she was not worldly girl. The girl had spent her time a captive shut off from the real world, locked away in the Lannister Court, and then as a prisoner and wife to the Boltons, as if she was unknown of the world outside a castle.  Daenerys might be mistaken and hoped to teach her of the world she had missed out on. Be as a friend to her.  Daenerys was older and had traveled the world, why should she not be disposed to dispense some advice from time to time to a girl of 16. Sansa could be vain. There were times Sansa seemed to divert every part of her to a false civility.  And cared only that people thought she was a fine lady.  And would probably die if she farted in public.

Daenerys could be uncharitable from time to time, especially when her frustration had reached a peak.

Daenerys left Sansa to run Winterfell, instead kept the company to her Dothraki hand maidens,  and her Missandei and then Arya, who was gay and spirited and fierce. And the Wildling Leaders, Bold Northern Widows and OrPhaned Daughters who had lived past the need for such pretenses. Daenerys did not keep a gentile court.  And she would not apologise for her friends.

In those few hours she had when not preparing for War, she had great fun with the youngest Stark girl. Arya had been all over everywhere.  The Riverlands, Kingslanding, Braavos. And Most of it a foot hidden as a peasant boy. Daenerys demanded tales of her adventures on cold nights by the fire, and if Arya was shy then bribed her with sweets and later sweet wine, for her tales were incredible. Daenerys told her she should tell these stories to a singer so they could sing songs of her adventures. The two spent many evenings in the solar talking about foreign lands and old friends, both high and low.  Daenerys did not tell her about all her friends for Arya was uninterested in romance. But terribly interested in horses and battles and what other lands of the East were like. She was curious and wanted to learn Valyrian.  And Drunkenly occasionally Daenerys let her fancy fly, and said if the war ended, she would chaperone Arya over the Free cities and find her a husband.  Arya would humor her. But Daenerys wake up guilty in the morning. She would regret her words in the morning as anything but the war to come was frivolous. And yet Arya held her confidence and said she’d never bother to cross the Narrow Sea for some petty man.

These conversations extended to diversions. Arya taught her to fly a hawk and many other useful and diverting things that a Westerosi lady would need.  And she learned how to fish with worms as bait, which she wished she knew how to do in the Dothraki sea. Frequently Lady Arya outraced her on Horseback, on matching Dornish Bays given to them by the tragic Sand snakes of Dorne as a gift to seal alliance.  For they had been as bastard Martells had been sisters too. Daenerys gave it to Arya on a whim though it should have been for one of her Bloodriders or a Queensguard. Arya loved it more than most ladies loved their husbands. Was it uncharitable for Daenerys to like women as she was, bold and strong?  And treat them with more attention. To the point now for some small matters she relied on Arya’s advice and discretion.  And had made a friend in Arya quickly. Was she supposed to be perfect?  
  
There were things said of Queens too bold who took female favorites and male lovers.  And Daenerys could not admit they were wrong. Lady Rhaena the Black Bride and Daena Defiant and the cursed Rhaenyra.

Daenerys whispered to her one night as they had stolen tarts from the kitchens. Where Daenerys taught her a distraction technique and had to palm a items into her sleeves.

“My dear.  When I was a girl of fourteen, I wished I had a little sister by my side to be my friend forever.”

“And When I will be thirteen, I will wish I had a khalasar.” The girl answered.

Daenerys laughed so hard and long it felt as if she was giddy.  They might have been caught “We will have to find you a khal.”

“Can’t a woman lead a khalasar by herself?”

“Anyone can do anything. Though ordinary woman are too craven to try. But why do it alone?  And the whole of the herd can fear you both.”

Arya had not thought about marriage so sensibly and naturally. “I guess.  I do not know, your grace.”

“It is sad to be lonely.” Daenerys said “There are some times, I would have a Khal Drogo again. Even if I had to be a washerwoman. Am I weak?”  
  
“Yes. Was he really so great? If a man like that beat me I would kill him in his sleep….”

“He did not….” Daenerys sighed “It is complicated.”  
“You miss him still? Even if he beat you.” Arya said “Women.” She scoffed.  
“I feel lonely sometimes.  And he was my Khal.”

“You aren’t lonely, and you can marry Jon.  Jon is a hundred times better than any Dothraki Khal, and he’d never beat a lady. And I can be your good sister. By law.  So you didn’t need a husband.”

Daenerys sighed “Right no one needs anything. Still.  Its fun to have a good husband.” She said “and a misery for a bad one.” She said “For they steal your soul and get away with it… for they are men and you a woman.”

“I changed my mind.” Arya said “I used to think getting married was for stupid people. Too foolish to do what they wanted.” She said  “Who cares if you will marry or not? You are right My lady.   People might do anything they want. The world is more terrible.  People should do as they may and leave Judgement to the gods.”

And Daenerys felt tempted to hug Arya at her bleak approval. It was far more suitable then flattery.

And such happy simple thoughts would occupy them.

Then as lesser men would dream of currying favor with a Queen. Or leading armies…  This fearsome of all queens indulged the silly thought of if she would marry again… if her dress would be black or green.  And it held no shame.

For if life was so terrible what shame could there be in anything. Even weakness.

***

“I think she likes you enough.” Arya had taken up sharpening her blades by the Solar’s fire.  
  
Bran barely lifted his head to listen to their conversation.  He had a warm place closest to the fire in his chair with wheels for he was a cripple and needed to be kept warm and safe.  Bran would sometimes roam the castle, not disposed to talk.  He was not dumb.  But a sad and dreamy boy.  Off in his own world.  The Solars of Winterfell were never completely private, as they were ancient thin walls and accessible to the servants. Some walls even exposed to the great hall.  For The Firstmen had no luxury of a privacy room.

Daenerys returned to her book. The book was a Targaryen psalter “The Seven Pointed Star and Prayers of the Faith of the Seven”, a great treasure some 200 years old.  It was bound in brown leather with gilt letters and knobs and bindings all over it.

“You can’t tell with Sansa.  I thought that her trials would knock sense into her. Make her less fancy.”  She said “The world is more than being fancy. I always told her. Even before when” Arya closed her lips around the words. As if trying to eat them if escaping. “Even if she is sad. She is always a lady.  Always so proper.  When I was little, I thought it would drive me crazy. Now. Its just who she is.  You have to take care not to hurt her. But I think she was strong.  She was stronger than mother.  Mother would sometimes weep when she was sad.  Sansa holds it all inside.”

Daenerys sighed.

“Well she must trust you. She doesn’t let me at the spices.”  Arya said  “I don’t know how to cook anything.  Not even maple tarts. I can’t even cook beans.” The little girl joked  “They would come up burned or crunchy or raw. Not that a Paramount lady does need to cook, even a second daughter…  we’ve got servants. Our servants had scullions. Ladies have to be useless.” Arya said  “Maybe in the Riverlands when Mother was little…  but she had to be in charge she had no mum to take care of her.  The old lords call the Tully’s new come cause they had no kings blood and won the Trident helping the dragons.” She said “Tyrell were Kingsblood at least a little.  The Baratheons were cousins to the king, through a Bastard named Orys. The Bracken say when no one is watching, Tullys come up from bandits and fisherfolk. Not Kings and Gods.”

“But they are lords of the Trident now.” Daenerys said  
“Yes.”  
“In ancient days the Valyrians came from shepards and sailors. Everyone doesn’t have a god or a grumking in their family tree at the start.”  
  
“Grumpkin my lady. I wouldn’t know about Valyrian.” Arya shook her head “Still the Tully’s are a bit more… humble. Mother knew how to spin and sew and cook and all that, as if she were only born to a knightly house. That is why she was chosen to be Lady of Winterfell.  You think Alerie Hightower would spin her own wool. Or eat turnips three meals a day. That’s why she was useful. Not playing harps and sewing fancywork. Mother was useful. She sometimes would bake sweets for fun, if there were extra food, like eggs or a bit of honey.  She always said she would teach me if I was a good little girl.”

“So I guess you never learned.” Daenerys joked to her.

But Arya got a wistful look on her face.

“Sorry.” Daenerys could be impulsive.

“No you are fair, my queen.  I was always a trouble to my mother.” She said laughing. “I don’t think I will learn yet still.”

Arya did not wish to talk about her mother.  Even someone hard headed like Daenerys knew that  
“What are you doing?” Arya asked.  
  
“I was studying the Seven pointed star.  TO learn the ways of the Seven.”  
The book was a great treasure some 200 years old. A gift from Aerys Targaryen the First, Who had friends in the Starks.  The Dornishman not the Mad King. He had come on a progress to the North of behalf of King Daeron the Good, when a callow youth, before the Blackfyre Revolt. Some said even had a love affair with one of the Snows. The old heads still told tales of the Dornish Mongrel who had wished to tour North of the wall but was so absent minded he was lost for a week.  He would have died if it were not a summer year and the wall wept. Even this first Aerys had eccentric ways. Starks in respect put it in their own solar as a place of honor, next to other great treasures.  It had been spared the library fire. These were not books often found in such humble places.  


Arya came over took Daenerys’s book and elbowed her away “Ooh Let me help.”  
Daenerys laughed “You are a reader?”

“It hurts my head.  But I learned the basics. And it was hard enough.  The septas beat my knuckles. And mother said I would mess up the Psalter with Strawberry Jam.”

With this Arya wiped her hands off and held each page like a butterfly wing.  So her mother would not despair her in heaven.

“You sure its not too onerous.”

“Thhp” Arya snorted “I would die for you, my lady. You’ve given me a laugh.  Why not.  I cannot think of a time I laughed.” Arya said “I can read this with you.  Even if it is rot.”  
  
“That Sevensmass comes again.” She said. “I know it is not Northern Custom.”

Arya grinned incredulously “Don’t be absurd. We celebrate Sevensmass.  What you think us idiots? Our Mother loved Sevensmass.” Arya said.

“You are of the Old gods?”  
“What do the Old Gods care if we feast and frolic?” Arya said “Sevensmass is fun.  And all people of all religions will take on a custom if it is fun.” Arya winked. “They still pray to the Drown god in Seagard.  Not everything is so black and white.”  
  
The RIverlanders having dozens of kings of faith for Blackwoods, Hoares, and Tully’s had a casual relationship with faith.  And they might throw figs in a well to the Drowned god, pray to a heart tree, light incense to a Pentoshi statue of a monster to ward off bad demons, and still consider themselves faithful and godly knights. So Catelyn Tully was not quail over strange things. But did not hide her intention to teach the men of the North the meaning of Southern ways.  And in naïve times hoped that some would convert.  She thought herself like the Sage Kings, who unified the First Men and the Andals.  For the two peoples, North and South, were ignorant of each others ways. Perhaps making them the most godly of all. Who would know the ways of all the Gods.

Arya seemed to strained to remember what part of the book she should open for Daenerys. When Sansa and Jon came in discussing the latest Buckwheat harvest of the Glass gardens. Sansa had time to sit pick up her embroidery and look disgusted  
  
“sansa what?”  
  
Sansa let out a sigh “Its in the tenth book the Eighth Verse. Begins with Hugor did leave the lands of Capan-“  
  
“I knew that.  I just needed the right page.  The Tenth book is about Hugor Hill’s children.” Arya barked at her sister.”

“You could never remember your holy scripture.” Sansa said.  
Arya’s faced twisted in frustration “Well the Septas never gave me a chance.  I could have remembered.  I just need more time to remember what I remember.”  
  
Arya opened the book for Daenerys “Its this part here….  In the Story of Hugor Hill and his sons were traveling and. That part has Sevensmass.” Arya grinned “I memorized the whole thing by heart.”

“You did not.” Jon said

“I did.  I wanted to recite it for the feast.” She said “and I remembered the whole thing. Father said it was the best recitation he ever heard.”

“He did not.  He said he was proud of you for being so brave and doing before all the lords.” Sansa said. Perhaps For her recitations were always perfectly correct, and pretty sounding, even when she were younger then Arya. She could do funny accents. And Arya stammered to remember the long phrases and nervous because father and the lords were watching.

“You could never remember even one verse without someone prompting you the first word” Sansa said.

“This is a vile calumny.” Arya laughed. “I remembered that whole verse. It took me forever to remember.”  
  
Jon Snow said “Then say on Arya. Show us all wrong.  You could not do the whole verse.”

“You don’t know any versus, Jon.” Arya said “You’re a proper heathen.”

“I know the one something something And that they went into the land of Andalos to find the true and promised land given by all the Gods to the sons and grandsons…. Something something.” Jon said. “I can read it.  I don’t need to memorize it. You claimed to memorize it.”

Sansa was trying hard not to burst into laughter.  It would be cruel.  
“Give me a second.”  
  
The Starks were playfully roasting each other. Like wolves playfighting.

Daenerys read the book to herself, too ashamed to give ANY recitation. As a young girl she would rather die than make herself visible.  Old Stark was probably a kindly man with a bushy moustache and a mischievous glimmer in his eye that made children calm. The glimmer in Jon’s eyes was so when he was among children.  And he might have red hair… as Sansa did.  Or black brown as Arya. Old Stark would probably encourage her to speak and be brave, even if she were a girl, and not beat her if she made a mistake.  He had told his girls to be brave and never give in to despair.

Daenerys was glad it was writ simply.  She was not the best reader of Common tongue, and moved her mouth.  And the words came slow. Valyrian was easier. And it was a rare thing for Women to read. When they were very little Viserys said she was clever for a girl for even learning to read. For most women were too stupid to learn.  She told him honestly it was his doing too, for he had been the one clever enough to teach her. He had helped her learn every night when they could find anything they might read.  They did so together. He promised he would teach her to read Common when she had learned enough. He would say One day soon when they had met up with some Lord of their country, who had a castle they could live in. And they would have food and water and warm fires and whole clothes and even servants to sew when their socks and shoes had holes. And if they were good and there was a feast they might eat sweets as many as they could and drink wine when they were grown folk.  He got very excited thinking about such a place.  In such a place they would learn to read and she would learn to play the harp and sew up pretty things to wear and put in her hair. He would learn to fight with a sword like Rhaegar.  And when everyone knew they were in trouble, they would live in that castle would grow up strong and wise and be the greatest king and queen who sat on the Throne and all their friends would love them. And all their enemies would die and feel sorry.  
His absurd fantasy moved her to hope.  Even beyond such material concerns as brushing their hair and having new shoes. She hoped one day would be as wise as any man and he would come to her for Counsel.  But they could not afford Books, especially Westerosi books. And only old pamphlets and holy books.  Things they had found tucked away. There was no place to put them.  They must throw them away when they moved. When they had a palace to live or even a rich man’s house, there might not be any Common Tongue books, only Valyrian.  She’d spend her time there so Viserys would call her clever again.

But as the words became too complicated for Viserys to recognize, for they had no place to live but the streets and gutters.  And the kind and liel lords were meaner greedier and more craven. And times they thought they had found a place to rest, were owned by people who had bad intentions. He had seen too much of the world.  He was drinking by the time he was 12.  He would not learn how to lance and swordfight, Daenerys was not as pretty as other girls, and would never be a great lady in her rags.  One night, it was obvious he was drinking, he slapped her he said a girl did not need to know how to read only be obedient and pretty. and not read better than her own brother.  He said shamefully. And he felt terrible about it. It would make her vain and self-important.

If she was smart, She could have stopped learning Valyrian, and sought only to please. A good queen should have been obedient to her brother. But she was vain, She liked to learn and so she did. Not that Viserys paid her mind, she could pretend she was someone else doing something else. But she felt bad. As if learning was a crime. So she pretended she could not read for him. Sometimes when they were old and there were days when Viserys was not so cross, she asked him to help her read, even though she did not need him too any longer. And he would do so once and while Mispronouncing words and sounding things out slowly. For it made him happy to seem clever even just to his little sister.  He might have known she was faking her ignorance, but he could not admit it.  His anger was so hard it filled his throat, so even cheap praise and lies could not be spoken among them.  And the last gesture and carded her hair. For he could not please or help his sister anymore. And he hated himself, and even speaking words was hard.  But he could not just leave her go.  And he might say terrible things with a kiss or a hug.  Or he might stay silent for hours and just sit by her, staring and hoping and trying to think.

  
He only had a little boys education, and not only that, no one kind and patient to teach him as she had him. He learned everything on his own, and still was ignorant of the complexities and fine scholarly words. Viserys honestly believed that he could not be taught anything by anyone his inferior.  And he stopped trying to learn, for it shamed him to ask for help.

It was a different language.  But she must work hard, and thought of her brother.  For she would not be ignorant to please anyone.  The Common Tongue was complicated to read betimes.  And she knew Missandei who was as literate as she was well-spoken, still guarded her pride.  But Daenerys had learned that she could depend on no one.  And must still learn.

The story was nice.  And easy to understand.  And she could follow in the book with its bright illuminations of men and children.  It was a simple tale of Hugor of the Hill and his family. To think her ancestor had made a book and she could read it. Even though all the Targaryens were gone.

Arya related closing her eyes and straining to memorize those verses her septas beat her if she forgot, and gave her sweet if she remembered. And Bran prompted her with keywords and phrases.  Daenerys forgot he was there.  And Arya let out an exasperated sigh every time Bran corrected her.

“I told you, you couldn’t remember it.” Sansa said  
“I can if Bran…”

“Didn’t tell you what the words were.”

Arya sat down. “Reading is for neets anyway.” She said “give me a sword and I will show you how clever I am.”

Jon pet her “Well you got most of it down.” He said “You will always know more verses then me.” He had teased her before.  
  
Daenerys could not even look at the book the Starks were causing such a ruckuss with their Arya bating.

“Sansa and Bran were always top of their studies.” Jon said “Bran never forgot anything.”

Bran looked out the window.

“I am sure Bran has become very learned.” Daenerys addressed him “For you seem to think about things deeply”

“I am right here.  You don’t need to talk through me.”

“Forgive me, Bran.”  
“I don’t see it’s importance. To … prove it.” Bran looked through her. “Will you give me a sweet?”  Bran shifted his body with a strap.

Bran was a quiet dreamy lad and had fits of temper.  Daenerys was intimidated by him.  “Might I help you up my…”

“It is well.” He shifted to his chair.  “It is good you study.  You will need it Queen Daenerys.”  He said. perhaps trying to apologize for his impertinence. “Your brother was too proud and did not admit his weaknesses. He died without apologizing for his cruelty. There is so little time to make right in the world.”

“My brother is-”

“He would never study for he was ashamed he did not know.” Bran said. “What don’t you know my lady?”  
  
Daenerys felt a chill as his blue eyes pierced through her.  
  
“One must be brave in cold days such as these. And not forget”  He looked at her through the bone

“I haven’t”  
“you must not forget who you are.”

For how could he know what she thought of and told no one.  How could he know these secrets? How could he know her thoughts from a look.  Troubles welled over her until Sansa ever the lady.

She gave his arm a shove “Leave Queen Daenerys alone.  Don’t be so moody.” Sansa scolded him. And the heavy atmosphere disappated.  
  
“I didn’t say anything… strange.” He said  
“Well it is rude to upset a lady.” Sansa said. “I swear Bran, Speak nicely for once, like a gentleman. I think you like too much to see people squirm when you are in a bad mood.”  
  
Bran said “I am not in a bad mood.”  
“You remember the story though.  Next year maybe you should recite it.” Daenerys said.  
“I don’t think I would like to hear me.” Bran said.

“I want to hear you.” Arya said “You half said it for me anyway.”  
  
“Mother did love that story.  And if you could remember it she would have been glad.” She said.  
  
“She’dve have known that I forgot the first verse.”  
  
 Bran pulled in Arya to sit at his feet. “But you probably said it better.  Everyone doesn’t like my words anymore.” He pet her and she was reminded of her own brothers.

Sansa said, “Mother loved everything about Sevensmass. You might say your socks were for Sevensmass and she’d think them superior.”

Bran furrowed his brow. “It gave her joy, especially in winter.” Bran said “Those lords of the North called her, the sweet lady, and the cheerful lady.  And they loved her for her beauty.” Bran said softly. As if remembering some dream from days or years ago. As if he was shamed to speak. “She was so… beautiful” She felt his eyes try to smile.  It had please him to think about such things.  But his smiles came slowly.  
  
“She were.” Jon hoped the conversation would end.  Though his skin crawled. Bran looked at him.

“She wasn’t always happy at Christmas” Sansa said “That all happened before you were born. Even Arya.  Robb told me.”

Sansa put down her needle.  
Jon exhaled.  He looked guilty “I almost forgot that Feast.” Jon said. “I must have a poor memory. I was littler then Robb…”  
“Well Robb remembered it all his life. He’d tell me every year.  He thought it was a good story.” Sansa said

“Tell me again.  Sansa of our mother. The story Robb told you. I can’t-” Bran said wistfully.  “I want to hear you say it to me.  I don’t think I can remember it as well as he did.”

“On the third year of their marriage a winter came.  My mother’s first winter in the North.  For the Spring, she was in Riverrun pregnant with Robb.  And in Summer she could not be idle, and had no time to sit when work was to be done, and doubly so in Autumn when it was her lady’s duty to lay by a quarter of the harvest.  But in winter, there was nothing to do, the castle was blocked off.  She had little of society outside Winterfell’s servants, and my lady mother had only a few aging maidservants. Like Old Nan and Serela before she died. and no gentle ladies to wait upon her. Some of her so-called friends who came with her from Riverrun had left in Autumn for fear of winter.  And many Northern Ladies had no knowledge of her.  She was suffering cabin fever and felt the walls were shrinking. She wondered if she could spend another minute in this castle. With no one but her child and servants and burly Northmen.”  
“And me.  But I was a perfectly charming little monster.” Jon said.

“Father said you would put everything in your mouth whether it was food or not.  And crawl about as if you owned the place and once Robb shut you up in a cupboard.  Once Robb fell down the stairs, because he was bored of playing inside.” Sansa said.  “With no society my mother felt depressed and grey as the winter. Her son did not cheer her and she was full with another baby. That was me. Which should make a woman happy, not melancholy.  So she felt ashamed.”

“And Sevenstide came. And Mother’s temper was not improving and one day she took to crying over her sewing and she did not even know why.  And father sat with her the whole afternoon, to make sure she would not be lonely. But it was not enough. Still she missed home and thought of the Rebellion that had passed. Of Her friends who left for Seagard… of my uncle Brandon her sweet heart and all those who had died.”

“My father revealed to her a surprise.  When visiting White Harbor in the Summer, He had bought sugar for her.  For he knew it was a thing that fine Southern Ladies had at their feasts.  A Foolish whim that cost him more than a half a gold piece.”

“He had left it locked in the cellar, to him it looked no more then a pile of brown rocks wrapped in parchment. For in the north, we use honey in summer and maple cakes in winter. And such things are not found everyday.  And the Glovers only keep a little maple and sell the rest to the South in winter years.  No one in the kitchens even knew how to cook with sugar.” 

“Mother was embarrassed for her fit of temper. And she was no little girl that a gift should make her happy. She said the North was not a place for luxuries like spice. For what could she say.  For she was supposed to be the Lady of Winterfell and mother to the Future Lord. Not a silly girl.  She could not have pounds of sugar in her stores.  She told father of tales that men stole spices from their lords and sold them.  For it was too fine a thing and it was a waste of money.  
But told her “Aye so…  A fish does not learn to breath air when it flops on the bank.  Catelyn Tully does not conquer the winter on her own. We are married now. You and I must work together as one. You must also come to me if you feel melancholy. For even if you have no friends, I hope I am your friend. My word is law in Winterfell, You must take this gift from me for you are my Lady… But you must not be so sad any longer, for it will be the waste of my money.”  
  
“So she had a beautiful feast with a whole banquet in the hall of sugar fancies. And laid the finest table Winterfell had ever seen.  For any who would come all the way in the snow.  Her logic was if they were to enjoy such luxuries they should not become accustomed to them. They should pay honor to the gods with a feast for all the good people and have good memories.  And not ration as was her want. For bacon or flour or salt or wine and all the other ordinary things. For she was a thrifty and careful housely woman. And Father claimed, he knew not of these things and left it to her. But he could see her wisdom.  He let her do as she will.”

“She taught all the cooks. All the dainties she had learned from her castle’s cook. Of sugar pies and cakes.  And they made sugar jam as Guest Rite gifts for the lords she invited. Men who had never eaten such in their lives.  So their women and children who had stayed at home might have some taste of Winterfell’s bounty. Any woman North of the Neck said it was the finest Jam they had ever eaten. And she made Lemon Cakes and even Cinnamon Apple Pie for the high table, which had never been eaten North or South of Raventree. SO cunningly made there was applause. Father if it were his way, might have said that no other lady could prepare as fine a feast as she had for the people. But he was bursting with pride. And a reluctant, perhaps even drunken word, of agreement when all the assembled men said Catelyn Stark was a fine lady. For Winterfell had never seemed or even been so rich and fine. Though he suffered for all his Lords teased him for paying note of any mere woman. Next thing he would say his wife was a beauty and the best woman in the world.”

It seemed all the sugar was gone in one night. For there was only a bit of ground sugar, that barely filled a small pouch. He pretended to be cross.  And Mother was worried.  But he could not let anyone think he was a spendthrift.” He said “He said “He could not imagine such a thing happening in his mother’s day. For such luxuries have no place in the north.”

But then in Summer he snuck to Whitehaven on some duty. He had bought sugar again. He had hid it in the cellar next to the saddles.  And he kept it hidden until Sevensmass of the first year of winter.”

“My father was not the type for words, no one can imagine him for Japes.” She said “So he always got away with them.  Most thought they were mad to think that Ned Stark would play them for fools. With no witty words, He asked her to check the stores for extra pickled fish.  And she found it. And was amazed for she had not bought it. And they did not make sugar at Winterfell.  She meticulously counted her stores down to the last apple and turnip and pickle, during the Autumn. She might have even felt cross, for she felt a fool.”

“What is this I have found?  Do you mean to trick me husband?” She held up the parcel.

“There is no place in such a humble home as this for luxuries.  Sugar is a waste of money. You must be mistaken.” He said “Last time we had sugar you wasted all of it in one night.”  
  
“Husband I have it right here.” She held it in his face. “Where did it come from.

“Perhaps the Seven Gods had a hand in it.” Father told her, his eyes sparkling with joy. “We best have another feast before someone steals it.”

Said Robb who was too young and excited to keep his father’s secret for me and Jon. That Father tricked mother in some elaborate prank and had waited two years for it to come to pass.  For winter was a dull time even for a Stark, and he much loved to see her laugh.

“And so it always was. The first Sevensmass of the winter, my father hid sugar in the pantry or the chambers or somewhere and pretended he knew nothing of it.  And we’d eat it in one feast, except what we saved for jam.”

“Every lord in the world loves his wife.  But he always liked her too, if she was a perfect patsy for his jape. He was her friend too.” Arya said. “They don’t have men like Father.”  
  
“Every year Summer or Winter, she had a feast at Sevensmass.  And all the banners were happy to join in fellowship though they honored the old ways…  in friendship with those that celebrated the new gods.  And The Manderlys and Starks became close. My lady mother’s society was contracted and small for she was Southern. But it grew and many people loved her. And soon she had as many friends in the north, despite her being Southern born.”

“And it was a grand feast.” Ser NotJorah Mormont. had little to say “All the lords said so.  I sat at high table a few of them.” He said “The remove was better then they had at Dragonstone.”

“Even when there were winter blizzards my mother prepared something. There was one year the granaries were bare and not even bacon could be found.  All there was to eat was dried salt meat and turnips for nearly three months. For Sevensmass, She had saved enough flour to make a loaf of bread for every family in Winterfell.  She made sourdough instead of yeast. And saved some jam for us so we could have sweets on the holiday.  She served it in the Greathall in all her finery and had singers come, so the castle could eat bread and salt together in fellowship. For that was the Heart of Sevensmass the day when all Gods were worshipped. The gods blessed us that year with a fine Trout season and even barley grain and white beans from the Reach which only came at double the price.”

And hearing these tales.  She looked to Sansa perhaps wiser.  She had not thought.  Her Dragon’s temper had wounded the woman.

Daenerys had not realized her privilege.  She who had been accustomed to saffron and pepper being the Queen of Merreen, was a little humbled.  That Sansa had offered the great treasure of Winterfell. Hospitality and grace. She had opened up her spice cabinet to her mother and father’s fondest memories. Not only to her but her Khalasar and her Queensguard and the Unsullied who were deprived of any luxury in their lives. Sansa was generous with her and Daenerys rebuffed her.  
  
Daenerys had tried to be a good leader. But she knew so little of the ways of being a great lady.  Her life was spent in deprivation and fear. Then when she were a woman grown and finally found her Khallasar, that desperation and fury turned into a thirst for conquest. It had not made her generous or competent at her full breadth of duties. Sometimes she feared she only knew the ways of force and coercion and would never be a good ruler.  And she would treat the people who needed her poorly. And acted like they were her inferior.

She had never made a home.  She had never been a lady. Her mother had died.  And so she had never wondered if she was as grand as her mother.  And was not haunted by the same halls where her parents died.  She had never been anywhere very long.  And had not spent more than a few moments at Dragonstone truly feeling the call of home.  Though mighty, it was cold and black. And felt it was a home to no one any longer.  
  
Daenerys had been cruel to Lady Sansa.  And sought to remedy. Daenerys was shamed, but did not think words, would fit.  Or perhaps was still too proud to speak such words, who know.  But Targaryens never used words when actions could speak louder.  
  
***  
The next morning She turned to Tyrion in his library offices.

“I have a confession to make to you ser.” Daenerys said “I have not celebrated Sevensmass. And I wish to hold Sevensmass at Winterfell.”

“Will the Northman be alright with that?” Tyrion asked.

“It is an old tradition of Lady Catelyn.” Daenerys said.  “All said that it was a happy affair. His grace said it would be wisest to hold a feast now.”

“Sevensmass…  hum…” Tyrion grumbled “It is a bit overrated. All the feasts and frolics merge together.” Tyrion grumbled and balled a piece of parchment into a ball.  
“You don’t like Sevensmass.  Is it evil?”

“No.  Its just…  wearying.  I am not a religious man, your grace” Tyrion said “So holidays have little appeal to me. A reason to stuff yourself with sweetmeats and drink yourself sick…”  
“If you feel it will cause trouble.”

“Its vainglorious nonsense.  I mean…”He looked on her face and he caved.

“Mine was not a childhood full of feasts and frolics.”

“And even so, with a brute like your brother they would have been horrible.” He scoffed. “He probably would have burned your-“  
  
Daenerys cut his censure off “Viserys did his best to keep me alive.  He could only-“

“Even so…” Tyrion back pedaled “I doubt the Dothraki celebrate the Maidens Day.”

He looked at her “My Queen, You have truly never had a Sevensmass?  Even as a little girl. A little Princess Daenerys.” Tyrion seemed heartbroken.

“No.” She said “And I wish to celebrate one in my first holiday in Westeros.”

“Don’t look at me like that…  I forget how young you are.”

Tyrion struggled with himself “But if there are children and small folk to consider.” Tyrion said. “I will help you.  It will do well to have a moment of fellowship and good cheer.” Tyrion said “It could be fun.”

He pulled out a fresh leaf of paper.

“We have some spices and some of those sugar that the Magisters gifted our retinue” Daenerys said.

“That is for your use my lady.” Tyrion said . “We will not be able to replenish our stores until winters end. Northman have nothing to eat but salted bread and horses.  And the winter is fierce.  We will not be able to replenish our stores of the-“

“I am no fool.  And I have read of the harsh northern winters.  And even bread may be a luxury. One does get close to your plate.”  
“I suppose the bread would eat me the other way around.” He said “I would not like to eat a horse.  I am a snob.”

“I do not like sugar, Lord Tyrion.  And we have more than the north to feed.” He said “So we should bare some of the expense.  Besides it is a foolish Khal who does not honor his bloodriders. They will not wish to ride for a Khal who gives them nothing in return.” Daenerys smiled

“Tell me. Lord Tyrion. How we might celebrate?”

Tyrion with a glimmer of some spirit in his eyes told the old tale. Perhaps it was not all Humbug “The Father sends down the Stewards of his heavenly palace to the Earth.  They cast a sleeping spell upon the house.  So every man and woman sleeps all the night through. To every home and palace and hovel and manse. They come and set the table and the faithful might break their fast.  For it was what he did for the children of Hugor Hill when they were starving in the wilderness.  The Father set up a great table outside for them for they had no place to live.” He said “Such a breakfast you have never seen my lady. Sweetmeats and fruit and nuts and fine roast and wine.  
  
“Did you do so at Casterly Rock?” She said “I cannot imagine Tywin Lannister laying a fine table.”

“You could not see the table.  It would make you blush a poor Essosi girl. Casterly Rock was covered in festoons and flowers and ribbons.” He said “What we ate for our breakfast would feed a castle.”

After breakfast each of the Father Servants would leave a parcel tied with green string in a bow, for the good girls and boys and each with a Letter from the Father himself and wicked boys get a white branch or a bit of rock.”

“Still I think it was deception.  I still think Tywin wrote those notes and took the credit for being the Father.” He said “As if he did not have control.”

 “Did you ever get rocks?”

“Never ever.  One year I got Rabbit Pellets.  But that was Cersei. She had thrown my parcel in the fire, for mine was heavier then hers. But I had a book and she had a pair of slippers. My Father was so angry at us he threw the others in the fire too.  If we were wicked children the Father would not bring us anymore and we were too old for tales.  
  
“Oh how terrible.” Daenerys said “You must have wept”  
  
“Only Jaime did. He was incalculably furious at the both of us for ruining his day.”  He said “Jaime had been good all year for nothing. I think I must have been wicked. Though I’ll tell you. Though it proves my evil,  I laughed to see Cersei’s present burn along side mine. Even if it meant no more gifts. If she did not get any either.” He said “I didn’t even feel sorry that Jaime’s new coat was burned.  I was a selfish child.”

Tyrion sighed  “There was never much cheer in our home.  No matter how glorious a breakfast you could lay out. Not that me and Cersei would not spoil with a quarrel.  And he never ignored the practice…  When Cersei had Joffrey they were more luxurious then ever.  There were his grandchildren to consider. He had parcels made for all them. And he wrote the notes on the Fathers behalf.  Once I snuck a dead rat in Joffrey’s parcel and he was queasy.” He said

“Your terrible. He;’s just a boy.”

“I’m terrible.  The little dolt thought it was a sign from the father and confessed to stealing his sister’s bull pup and losing it.  It was a Sevensmass miracle. He thought the gods found out he was a thief”  
  
“Cruel.”

“He claimed not to have meant it. And he lost his temper.”  
“I blamed Myrcella but Cersei knew it me.  Myrcella hated loud dogs, making its theft the perfect crime. Even if he was sorry he killed a healthy pup.”  
  
“My father never tried to stopped holding the feast.  Even though we were poorly behaved.  But it is one thing to go through the motions.  It is another thing to never even bother to go through the motions.  And they were very kind notes from time to time.  I wish…  I wonder if I had kept them.  I should have to know if I might, misremember them.”  He said.

Tyrion was overcome for a few moments “If one puts up with the motions… at least you are pretending to care. Even empty courtesies… are not indifference.  What did my father’s note said to me.  But it was kind.  It must have sounded kind, if I remember.”

Daenerys could not say.  For what could she know with memories of Viserys and Drogo.  Love was absurd. Afforded to the worst and best of men arbitrarily.”

“You’ll show me.”

“I can show you a thing or too.  Perhaps the songs the septas taught us.”

***  
There were many suggestions that Tyrion made that parcels should be tied in string.  And that he could probably fine golden apples which were lucky and hand them among the little children of the castle and among some of the Dothraki and the Wildlings who had whole families attending them.  Which were very lucky to eat on Sevensmass and linen scarfs to wrap them in, which were useful in everyday life.  And all these little things.  And he had sang to her some old hymns that were saved for Sevensmass day.  And even some old hymns that most of the faithful knew.   
  
A little time handing out gifts to the children and few confused adults who also wanted apples and saw them there.  There was far less thievery then Tyrion or Daenerys expected.  Even from the Dothraki who did not give gifts as a matter of their religion.  They would take one, not all.  Making Daenerys think that Ser Jorah did not know what he was taking about. For the little Dothraki children were grateful and excited. They tugged at her skirts and some of them hugged and kissed her.  And Tyrion who was her little helper.

And despite himself sang them cheerfully, though he was no singer.  Daenerys learned to sing along on the chorus. Even though she just learned them that day… Clever girl. Some of the Dothraki began to hum the tunes. Even if they did not recognize the words or even the language.  For it was a good song to beat laundary and spin wool too.  
  
The wildlings who did not warm to the Queen for being overblown, were happy to take her gifts.  There were only womenfolk to greet her and behind her hearing, and sometimes to her face they bilttled her “A fancy sothron slip of a girl, who had them dragons steal for her. For she was pretty for looking at, but no strength to her to survive the winter. Without them dragons she’d not be worth stealing.”  Wilding children were very curious about the small man and the lady in the pretty fur with purple eyes and hair like gold.  They said she was magic, and a dragon dressed like a girl.  Their parents eased their suspicion. As the apples were clean and not a trap.  
And while many of them were not disposed to break bread with the Northman.  Other then Tormund and Sigorn. They said they would come to a feast if there was a feast to be had.

And though all said the Wildlings were heartless and greedy, it was the Wildlings bought gifts to her.  Rabbit skins and bits of finest homespun goat wool, and vintage brandy and stolen wine. And many of the Chiefs bought frozen boar meat and haunches of venison, barrels of flour they had stole but a few months before from Umbers and Foots and Glovers. The Northman could not admit it was generous to receive their own property back.  
One of the chiefs decried, They would not live in Winterfell it would be bad manners not to bring something to their neighbors. And the Ovens of Winterfell burned hotter then cook fires in the wolfswood.  If Winterfell would cook the meat, they might bring game from time to time. And a trade alliance was formed.  
  
Daenerys could not imagine that Wildlings would return what they stole.  And even they did too. For they considered flour and fat. a fine gift to the Queen and not a gift to the men weak enough to lose it.  
  
There could be peace,  Jon had seen that those who stole in greed, that if a better way would open, would not stick to it.  They did not want to steal, for it was murderously difficult.  If they might trade furs and silver, for food with the Dothraki, who lived lean lives and despite their reputation. And had horses strong enough even in this cold.  Wanted things they had no capability to steal. Even Khalleesi’s honor had not filled their bellies. And to trade horses for warm furs and gold seemed to becoming more prevalent among the younger Dothraki and the women folk.  Wildlings might be aback horses and talkative Dothraki bloodriders might be found quarreling not stabbing each other.

It was a tired cold Daenerys who entered her bed, but much changed being among her people.

Jon was smiling as they lay abed. “What has Lannister got up to?” He said “He might have made enough parcels for every person in the castle.”  
  
“It was your idea.” He said “For Sevensmass.”

“For a feast.  I did not think Lannister could make such a todo in such a short time. Parcels Golden Apples… songs.”

“Well it would not be just for the Father to ignore anyone.  Even if they were a little wicked.” She muttered. “You don’t approve?”

“Of course I approve. I am impressed.” Jon said. “And it seems that we will be sharing bread with half the Wildling tribes of the North, when they are hard to please.  And the Dothraki are happy enough.” He said  “I am not one for septs, however.”

“I thought you were raised along the Starks.” She said “You did not learn the same things?”  
  
“And let that mean old Septon Barner yell at me for being a bastard? I did not like the sept. He said the Stewards drowned heathen children in the well. During the mass, I slipped out the back and played in the creek with Theon. Mass was three hours long on every Sevensday. Three hours to know I’d be fit to be hung.  I was not about to sit through that.” He said.  And the little children of the castle were afraid of Barner and his sermons on wickedness and heathens.”

“Oh no.”

 “It were Theon drove Barner to drink.  He said that he was a slave of Demons and the Drowned God was the only true god. He even knocked over a chair once.  We all laughed.”

“Yes even the Lady Catelyn told him to stop.  She might have been a fool and thought to convert the North, but through friendship. He were rude as shit to her, which will never stand in our kingdom, Not while Eddard Stark was lord.  That old Septon Chale came next. He was nice. And everyone liked him from the first. He helped the Maester Luwin heal the sick and elderly. He helped the Septas teach the girls the Seven Pointed star.  Though he was their superior, we were all brothers and sisters. I remember He gave me a blessing when I was fevered and they thought I would die.  His poor black little lamb lost in the wilderness. Never used the word Bastard.  
But by then I had no interest in the seven gods, I never was anointed.  But Robb weren’t either, mostly Septon Barner’s fault for being a scold to everyone.  Even Robb had stopped going to Mass. The Septon should be a nice old man. Father liked him too and said he was wise and learned man, but humble. Father bid me give him rabbits and quails when there were extra in the hunt, for he was aholy man and could not shed blood, for it would be good luck to be nice to Septon. He also said a man must always be courteous to Septas. For each of them believed they were the wife of a god, so they were high born as any lady.”  He said “I don’t think a god would marry Septa Mordane.”

 “It does sound unusual.” Daenerys said. “There is nothing about Septons in the Book except that one day they were.” She said “I feel I will never understand all the intricacies and the meaning of things.  And where they came from.” Daenerys said.

Jo scoffed “That is this. I learned to read by Septas and Maesters. None of this is in the Star.  I had to read it before my schooling could end. Which makes it very puzzling.  For sometimes if you do not know… you will never know and treat you as a fool though no one told you.”

“The Faith seems like a different world.  At least the old way is simple.”

 “Still it is the way things are South.  You have to get used to it.  Can’t stick your head in the sand like them Ironborn. And kill others for their Gods.” He said “Lady Catelyn… was not wrong to bring together people in Peace.” He ground out words.  “We must find a way between.”

Daenerys looked up on his thoughtful face “I know so little of the faith of my parents.  I must have been Annointed in the Sevens light.  When I was a baby.  I was named.  But was it by Septons in a chapel?  Was I bathed in holy water, or sent to Braavos before I was safe? But who knows.  I might be a heathen too.  I do not know what this means.” She said “I have never had a chance to worry about this.  But they might want an Annointed Queen who follows the Seven and is more godly then a common woman.”  
  
“Was Aegon the Conqueror? He had two wives.”

“Aegon respected the Faith.  And My family has honored the Faith ever since. His children were the faithful, their children.  My father and my mother.  Yet I cannot understand an old book.””  
  
“it is well you learn about this.” He said “You must know who you are.”  
  
She remembered Brans words. “The best kings and queens are godly.  And if I am godly, I might have my people blessed by the Gods.” She said “For me it seems logical… and yet.”

Jon thought to her “Godly men, are also modest ones.  The ones who know that a man’s life is nothing in the universe and that the Gods all look down on us.  For Kings who are too proud are punished by fate.  And Kings who have no pride will be destroyed like cattle.”

“See you are a Godly Man Jon.”

“I never thought…”

“You are good and kind.”

“The Old Gods who existed for all time, do not need Jon Snow to vouch for them who will not be here for so long.  Or they would not be the Gods.”

“And if I don’t even know my beliefs.”  Daenerys asked

“Just nod.  If you feel confused. Its easier by Gods. Half the religion is memorizing and nodding and muttering. Usually that gets you through without looking as a fool.”

She smirked “I’d rather know what it all meant before I worshipped.”

“Septon Chale has died, poor old man. You might ask my sister. She’s learned for a woman and more clever then me.” He said “She knows much of the faith and was Septa Mordane’s best pupil.”

“I do not think Sansa likes me.” Daenerys said

“Sansa is a quiet woman. If she is Catelyn’s daughter, all the quiet in the world could not hide that Old Lady’s wroth. For Lady Catelyn was an honest woman, and could not hide herself to me.  I could tell when she was in a bad mood. And quickly learned to avoid her when she was.  Robb seemed blind to it”

You have a complicated family Jon.

“I have a right not to be pressed on the topic of Catelyn Stark.  She was very cruel to me.”  
“That is not the point.”

Jon was a quiet man. “True, Sansa reminds me of Lady Catelyn. Mother and child must be alike. but that was a fiery lady. All things said and done, I do forgive her and try to forget her. Sansa is still her father’s daughter as well. My father could lie to me with a straight face all my life. All to protect his oaths and family.  He even lied to his Lady to protect her. I think If Sansa thought it should disgrace her house or risk her family, she would keep her hate in secret.” He said “No one would ever know.”

“And if that secret is that she hates me, but fears my displeasure.” She said “Will there ever be peace in this family?”  
“If Sansa is the one to keep the secret, you might never know.”

Jon thought and spoke. “If anything. My father was a good man, and could not hate you.  I think he would hold you in high esteem, my lady, when he knew your true self.  No lover of Targaryens. Even though you were a wanton and proud woman.”

“Proud and Wanton.”  
“For A Northern woman.” He said “He has a right to his own mind.”

“Proud and Wanton.” Daenerys laughed  
“He would say, It is not well a woman should have marry to scheme her way to power.  And you have not even known this Girl even twenty years before you took her to your bed.  He did not think women should be in battle let alone riding dragon’s back.” Jon teased her

“Can you know your father so well?” Daenerys poked him

“I can make a guess.” He kissed her neck.

“I am not that proud.” And she drew him in to lay beside her and kissed him.

*****


End file.
